Darkness in Shadow
by Taline
Summary: [AU Schwarz] When a teenage prostitute meets a pair of vampires, his life will never be the same. WIP. Please review! Chapter 3 up!
1. Sweet Little Kitten

_Author's Notes_: This story is very loosely based off of part of Anne Rice's novel, Interview with a Vampire, but if you haven't read it, you shouldn't be lost at all. I apologize in advance to Farfie fans that he isn't in this story as of yet. He will be, but not til later on. This story is a Work in Progress, and I don't know how long it will be. And I'm not sure if Weiss will come in at all either. We'll have to wait and see. Please remember this is AU, so it's probably not a very familiar setting or timeline. But it does take place in modern times. If you have any questions about my vampire ideas for this story, please email me or leave a review with your email, and I'll gladly answer them.

Warnings: yaoi, angst, violence, language, shota, lime, death of non-important characters

Rating: R for language, adult themes, and violence

Pairings: As of right now, SchuxNagi

… centered means change in whose view the story is being told, but not a time change

~*~ means a time change or scene change

'_italics_'mean thought

Oh, one more quick spoiler: Schuldig and Crawford have their powers because they are vampires. Nagi does not yet have his telekinesis. Without further ado, the story!

~*~

Chapter 1: Sweet Little Kitten 

There he was, leaning against a streetlight, arms folded across his slender chest, ankles crossed nonchalantly. His hips were thrust out almost unconsciously, giving away his less than noble profession in almost a come-and-get-me stance. His clothes, although old and not very stylish, were clean and hugged his curvaceous frame generously.

Deep within the shadows of a nearby alley, a slight smile curved the pale lips of the observer upwards in an almost hellish sneer, the dim lighting catching the two long canine teeth that pressed lightly to the red lower lip. He had been observing the boy for several nights now, and he had learned his routine quite quickly. He was under this same streetlight at precisely eight pm several nights a week, and it never took long for some man to approach him and whisk him away in a car to somewhere where they could be alone. Then he would return several hours later, a thick wad of cash tucked into his pocket, and he would resume his spot under the light until another person came by, and the cycle would begin again.

The young boy was plainly a whore, his clothing and his attitude reflecting that no matter where he was. And he had picked up many interesting thoughts from the teen as well. He was fourteen, though he looked much younger. His voice, however, made him seem older than that, even though his ninety-pound frame was a dead giveaway he was not. He liked to read and spent his time between sleep and "work" at the library, teaching himself many things. He was extremely intelligent, though he had never had any formal schooling. He had been on the street for most of his life, as far back as he could remember, anyway. He had been a street whore for at least seven years because he had no other way of making money. And because of his nightly activities, he had developed a mild case of nymphomania, an excessive sexual desire. It wasn't a constant thing and actually very rare in men, but it was enough that when he was sexually stimulated, it took a long time to bring him down off of his sex high. In most cases this worked to his advantage, but the boy still thought it a curse.

The man in the shadows studied the boy with bright emerald eyes. He longed to run his fingers through the mahogany brown hair that curled ever so slightly around the boy's flushed, pink cheeks. He wanted to feel that sinewy body underneath him, struggling and moaning, while that slender throat exposed itself to him, so invitingly, so warm and pale and soft… And Schuldig, for that was the vampire's name, always got what he wanted. Pulling his long-cut green coat tighter around him, he slowly left the safety of the early-dark shadows and drew nearer to the teen.

…

The night was cold, but that didn't bother him that much. He was used to cold nights, and they always got hotter, in a sense. He sighed silently. Why couldn't he escape from his life here? Why did it have to be him?

"Hey," came a soft voice nearby. Glancing up, the boy instinctively adjusted his position into a more seductive stance. There was a man standing a few feet away, and that probably meant business.

"Konbanwa," he said back, bobbing his respectively.

"Cold night," the young man commented.

"Hai. It is cold," the teen responded back. A soft smile played across his petal-pink lips. "Perhaps we could warm it up a bit?" The older man stepped closer, into more of the glow of the lamp. The boy's eyes widened in surprise as he studied him.

Most of the men he encountered in his profession were older, the pedophile-looking types, or sometimes a middle-aged family man with a cushy office job that required a suit and tie every day. Rarely did he encounter a man under 35 or so, but this man before him… Well, he was undeniably beautiful.

He couldn't have been more than early twenties at the most. His skin was pale, almost a shocking shade of white, and his lips were a deep crimson, a sharp contrast to his light skin. His eyes were a bright green color and seemed to shimmer in the light's soft gleam. But what the boy found the most stunning was his hair. It was a dazzling shade of red, almost orange. Soft and silky, it hung long around the man's slender but toned shoulders, sleek and shining as if it had been burnished with copper. It was tied out of the man's face with a yellow bandana, and on top of that was perched a pair of sunglasses, which the teen thought rather strange, as it was past sunset. But they seemed more of a decoration than actually serving any real purpose. The man was perhaps the most beautiful he had ever seen, and instantly he felt desire overtake him.

"Perhaps we could," the man said, his voice more of a purr than an actual voice. His smile curved slightly into a devilish smirk that entranced the teenager with its naughtiness. "What's your name?"

"Nagi. Naoe Nagi," the boy said softly.

The stranger smiled. "Pretty name. Just like you, kitten."

Hmm, there was something he hadn't been called too often. Normally he would have resented being referred to by such a cutsie-wootsy name, but from this man's lips, the word seemed almost musical.

"Arigatou," he said softly, bobbing his head again. This man certainly seemed different as well. He didn't seem rough or demanding like most men were. It was certainly a pleasant change.

The man smiled a bit brighter, his perfectly white teeth gleaming in the lamplight. "What's your price, little one?"

Nagi shrugged one shoulder carelessly. "Depends what you want."

"Whatever."

Nagi glanced up in surprise, but he nodded slowly. "Thousand yen is fine, for whatever you want. And you pay if we go anywhere."

Schuldig smiled softly. This boy had spirit, that was for sure. That was always good. "I was thinking we could go back to my place, if that's all right with you."

"Fine by me," Nagi said, pushing himself off the iron lamppost he was leaning against and moving closer to the man.

"Do you mind if we walk?"

That took Nagi by surprise, but he shrugged again. "Not really. How far is it?"

"Just a couple blocks. I can carry you if you get tired."

"I'll survive," Nagi said, moving closer to the man. But for as close as he was to him, he was surprised to not feel any body warmth radiating off of him.

Schuldig slowly reached down and stroked one hand lightly through the teen's hair. The soft, walnut locks, although in need of a wash, were soft as down and pretty as silk. Nagi's head tilted towards the touch, a soft moan in his throat.

Schuldig smiled and stroked the hair again, combing it with soft but cold fingers. "Come on. When we get to my place, we can wash that pretty hair of yours."

"Okay," Nagi agreed softly, gazing up at the stranger with almost-shy eyes. Whoever this stranger was, he certainly seemed nice. Of course, most usually did though. Usually the nice ones where the ones who hurt the most, so he knew better than to get too trusting.

Schuldig started to walk, gently pulling the teenager with him. Nagi fell into step with him, eyes on the ground. The man glanced down at him, watching the way the long, slender legs moved gracefully, like a cat. The boy screamed sensuality in almost everything he did. He liked that. He absently reached his hand around to brush one cold thumb across the boy's throat. Nagi started at the touch. It was extraordinarily cold. He glanced up uneasily at the man, but the look in his eyes was reassuring.

"My name's Schuldig," the man said, almost as an afterthought to an unspoken conversation.

"What language is that?" Nagi asked softly, his brow wrinkling a bit at the unfamiliar-sounding name.

"German. I'm originally from Germany."

"Ah, in Europe," Nagi said knowingly, nodding his head slightly so the chocolate bangs brushed his pale forehead.

"Hai. Have you ever been to Europe?"

"Iie," Nagi said softly. "I'd like to go one day. But I've never left Japan before."

"Ah. Perhaps one day I can take you."

Nagi looked up in surprise, but the man called Schuldig didn't seem to notice, glancing around the quiet streets. Silence fell between them again for a few short minutes before Nagi spoke up again. "Are we close to your house?"

"Almost there." Schuldig glanced down at the teen and smiled softly. The tip of his long incisors caught the light and glimmered just a bit. Nagi blinked and looked at it, sure he was seeing things. But then it was gone, and he didn't think much more about it. It wasn't his place to judge his clients.

They stopped in front of a rather large house on a rather prestigious-looking block. Nagi gazed up at it in surprise. Was this Schuldig man rich?

"You might say that," Schuldig said softly, smiling down at him.

Nagi blinked and looked up at him. Had he said that out loud? He didn't think he had, but perhaps…

The man smiled and led him up the front steps. He unlocked the door and led him inside, closing and locking it behind him.

Inside it was actually quite dark. All the shades were drawn, and any lights were dimmed to low. Several candles flickered in a few holders. The air was rather cool, not as cold as outside, but not extremely warm as most people had their houses. There didn't seem to be much in it furniture-wise, but the things that were there looked soft and inviting.

"My room's upstairs," Schuldig said, catching the boy's hand in his own and giving him a light tug like a puppy on a string. Nagi nodded and quickly followed after him, keeping pace with him so as not to trip over anything in the absence of light. He led him up a winding flight of stairs and into a room that seemed to cover the entire second floor. There was a television and some electronic devices, a door leading out to a bathroom on one side, and a bed farther into the room. Schuldig gave Nagi a light nudge towards it.

Taking his cue, the teen moved over to sit down on the edge of the bed, which was surprisingly soft and comfy. He gazed up at the German with beckoning eyes, scooting backwards onto the bed, spreading his legs apart as he did so. "Want to come join me?"

The German nodded and moved to sprawl on the bed next to him, his hip pressing lightly against the boy's front. He could feel the teen's hard sex pressing against him, and he smiled to himself. He reached over and slowly undid each button of the teen's shirt before he slid it off, baring the lovely expanse of pale skin to his eyes. He studied the soft skin with interested eyes. The boy was so slender he could see the outline of each of the delicate ribs. He had almost no stomach at all. His pink nipples were hard already, and the older man was fascinated by the gentle rise and fall of the teen's chest as he breathed. "You're so beautiful…"

Nagi smiled slightly, reaching up to undo the gold buttons on Schuldig's green jacket, but the man gently pushed his hands away. "Not yet… Pants first, kitten."

Nagi was happy to oblige, his hands sliding down to unfasten his own pants and slide them off. Being a prostitute, underwear only got in the way, so now he lay naked underneath him, smiling prettily up at him, a hand reaching up to stroke lightly through the coppery strands of hair that fell over the German's emerald eyes.

Schuldig smiled softly and reached down to run one cold finger over the teen's soft throat. Nagi smiled and tilted his chin up to expose more of the soft flesh to the gentle touch.

…

'_Such a delicate throat_,' Schuldig thought, stroking over it gently with two fingers. The skin was silky smooth under his touch. He smiled softly. He could smell the boy's sweet blood rushing through his body, and it was almost enough to drive him mad. He wanted this boy so badly it was almost insane. He was so beautiful against the soft blankets of the bed, his eyes closed, his chin tilted upwards exposing his tender throat. His chocolate hair fell over his face slightly, giving him an almost-innocent look, despite how incredibly un-innocent he really was.

Slowly he leaned down and brushed a soft kiss over the teen's neck, delight in the way the boy moaned and squirmed against the touch. It was mostly an act, but he could still sense the boy's desire in his thoughts. He grinned, his teeth glimmering slightly, then trailed his tongue lightly over the artery that he longed with all his heart to sink his teeth into. But no, he had to wait. He needed more of his trust first.

His hands traced over the teen's chest and back up again, smiling as Nagi squirmed against his touch. He was so beautiful… For being a prostitute half of his life, he seemed to have been treated well. No bruises or scars marred the delicate, pale skin, no signs of abuse seemed apparent on his petit body. The teenager was undeniably beautiful, like a delicate porcelain doll. He wasn't what one might call cute like one would call a new puppy. He was exquisite in his features, as if he was carved by a sculptor of exceptional skill.

Nagi's midnight blue eyes that had fallen closed now slowly slid open to gaze up at him in an almost shy gaze. He slid his hands up to undo the green double-breasted jacket again, but Schuldig again pushed his hands away gently. "So impatient, kitten. Just wait."

Nagi stared up at him in surprise, but he slowly nodded. He knew better than to criticize customer preference.

Schuldig smiled softly at him. "You're so beautiful, kitten. Nagi. I can make you feel wonderful. And you can do the same for me."

Nagi smiled softly at him. "Whatever you like, Schuldig-sama."

Schuldig smiled and leaned down to kiss the pale throat again. Nagi tilted his chin upwards, and Schuldig took his chance. With a soft moan, he sank his needle-sharp teeth into the teenager's neck.

…

The sudden pain in his neck caused the baby teen to cry out in sudden red-hot pain. He tried to pull away, but a strong pair of hands held the sides of his face gently, preventing any movement.

'_Just relax_,' came a soft voice in his mind. '_Don't struggle or you'll tear your throat, little one. It'll be all right. I promise._'

Nagi started to cry, sobbing in the man's grip. '_It hurts… Please… Let go of me… Don't kill me…_'

'_I have no intention of killing you_,' came the reply, followed by a sound not unlike amused laughter. Strangely enough, that tickled in his mind. '_Just calm down, kitten._'

Nagi continued to cry, but he held still in the monster's grip. The pain was spreading through his body until he thought he would scream, but, suddenly, the pain dulled and seemed to soothe over itself. Then came a slight tingling feeling at the puncture points, then the most lovely feeling of euphoria, spreading down over his body, relaxing his muscles and his mind. The euphoric state increased until it suddenly escalated into an absolutely mind-numbing pleasure that sent a silent scream through his tiny form, unable to make any sound come out around the vampire's mouth. The feeling shot through his body like wildfire into something shockingly intimate. The feeling was something he could only think of as sexual ecstasy. The pleasure gripped him tightly, pushing his mind further and further into oblivion until it became too much to handle, and the world went black.

…

'_Gott im Himmel!_' Schuldig thought as the first splash of the boy's blood cascaded into his mouth. The taste turned instantly from metallic to something so sensually sweet it almost overloaded his senses. He had imagined the boy's taste for days now; he smelled the sweet blood every time he came near the teen, and now… Gott… He drove his teeth in deeper still, gnawing lightly to get the blood to flow more. He wished he could drink forever, so deeply until he died from it, but he could slowly feel the boy weakening underneath him. As much as he longed to complete his kill, the ultimate act of intimacy, he could not slay his pet. This was his kitten now, and he could not let him die. With a soft, reassuring sound in the back of his throat, he pulled away from Nagi, his tongue lapping lightly at the wounds on the smooth flesh. He smiled softly. The boy was unconscious, but he would wake up soon. And when he did, he would make him his. Forever…

…

After only a few minutes… or had it been hours?… a pair of navy eyes slowly slid open, unfocused and hazy for a moment before they were able to catch a focus point. He stared at the ceiling above him, then felt a warm, heavy weight next to him. His eyes shifted and met a pair of bright emerald eyes. "Sch… Schuldig-sama?"

"Shh, Nagi kitten. You're still weak."

"Wh… what happened?"

"You passed out, little one." Schuldig smiled softly, and Nagi blinked to see the perfect white smile tinged slightly pink. "Sumimasen. I probably got a little carried away…"

"What did you do?" Nagi asked softly, lifting a hand weakly to rub at his eyes.

"Drank your blood," Schuldig said simply, as if saying he had eaten pizza for dinner. "You're so sweet, little kitten. So sweet."

A hand touched his neck lightly, and Nagi gasped softly as a slight tingle of pain found its way to his hazy brain. "Itai…"

"It'll heal quickly. Don't worry."

Nagi nodded weakly. "Are… are you going to kill me?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Isn't that what vampires do?"

"Oh, so you figured out I'm a vampire?"

"Well, what else would you be?" Nagi said logically.

Schuldig smiled. The boy seemed so calm about it. Being faced by an undead blood hunter wasn't exactly an everyday occurrence. "Ja, I'm a vampire. And nein, I'm not going to kill you. I have no reason to."

"What are you going to do then?" Nagi asked softly, shifting a bit on the bed and realizing he was still naked, but he felt comfortable and warm.

"That's up to you." Schuldig suddenly shifted so he was lying lightly on top of the boy. He reached down to caress the walnut locks. "You have two choices. Either I can release you and send you back to your life on the streets, or you can stay here with me, and I can give you everything you've ever wanted in return for what I did tonight."

"Nani? You… you want me to… to stay and be your man-whore?"

"Now now, kitten. I would never see you like that. You would be mine. Just mine." He smiled softly and touched the pale, pink-tinged cheek. "Don't decide now. You're weak. You need rest and food. Tomorrow night you tell me your choice."

Nagi nodded slowly and snuggled closer to the man. Now there was a soft warmth coming off the German, and, upon further examination, Nagi realized the awful white pallor that had before colored his skin was now almost the same color as that of a normal, healthy human being, tanned and rosy. He smiled slightly and reached up a quivering hand to gently stroke over the warm cheek. "You're so handsome."

The German smiled, touching the boy's hand with his own. "Thank you, kitten. Close your eyes now. You need to rest." The boy complied, his hand falling limply to his side, nestling into the soft blankets underneath him. Schuldig smiled and stroked the soft bangs with his fingers.

"Ahem," came a sharp cough from the doorway. Schuldig shifted slightly so he could peer over his shoulder, the drowsy teen shifting underneath him to follow his gaze. A tall, dark-haired man with silver-rimmed glasses and a pressed white Armani suit that almost matched his white skin stood in the doorframe, one hand resting lightly on the dark wood, coffee-amber eyes studying the scene before him with a look of mild disdain.

Schuldig grinned and turned back to the young boy underneath him. "Nagi, meet my companion. Bradley Crawford."

…

'_What a thing to come home to_,' Brad thought as he stood in the doorway watching the pair in front of him. He had foreseen Schuldig bringing someone home, but this was not the sight he expected when he entered the room.

The person… a girl, he had first thought when he saw the delicate features, was sprawled unceremoniously on the bed, his vampire fledgling laying on top of her, murmuring softly in her ear. But then Schuldig shifted, and he could see the smooth chest and corrected his assumptions from girl to boy. At first, he wasn't sure if he was alive or dead, but then he shifted slightly, affirming the boy was living. A very young boy, it seemed, by just looking at him. Great. Schuldig was a catamite now.

"Nagi, meet my companion. Bradley Crawford."

"What is the meaning of this, Schuldig?" Brad asked, striding into the room to stand at the foot of the bed, glaring down at the two from behind his glasses.

Schuldig shifted so he was sitting facing Brad, his body effectively blocking most of Nagi from his view. "What? I can't have a little fun, Brad-brad?"

"Don't call me that!" Brad hissed in a tone that stated he had said that a million times, and it had never done a speck of good. "Why did you bring a street boy to our house?"

Schuldig glared slightly, feeling the teenager shift uneasily behind him. "He's not a street boy. He's my new pet, Brad."

"Crawford," the man corrected automatically.

"Brad Crawford. Nagi is my feeder."

Brad sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his fingers in a rather human gesture. "You don't need one."

"But look at him, Bradley!" Schuldig said, moving aside and pulling the naked teen forward from his resting spot to in front of him, holding him with his hands on his shoulders. "Isn't he so pretty? Just think of all the fun we could have with him! We can buy him presents and dress him up and treat him like our own child!"

The teenager stared up at Brad with large, almost frightened eyes, and he struggled a bit in Schuldig's grip, trying to move closer to the German.

Brad eyes him with critical eyes, taking in the boy's slender form, his smooth skin, his delicate eyes, and his tense frame. Even in the fear, he could feel the boy's defiance and strength. The boy was not as weak as his body seemed to show. And he could smell the sugary-sweet blood that surged in the boy's veins. Even though he had just hunted and was thoroughly filled, the scent overwhelmed him. He suddenly leaped forward and fastened his teeth onto the boy's neck. The surge of raw energy that accompanied the sudden flow of blood was overwhelming, and he drank several deep swallows before he felt Schuldig's hands pushing against his shoulders. "Brad… Crawford… He doesn't have… Stop!"

Brad released the boy who slumped backwards into Schuldig's arms with a soft moan, resting his cheek against the green-jacketed arm. Schuldig held him protectively, staring up at Brad in a mix of horror and anger.

Brad licked the sweet copper flavor off his lips and nodded his approval. "He may stay. You are responsible for him. But seeing as you are still a fledgling yourself, I don't approve of your timing."

"I'll take care of him," Schuldig defended, holding the unconscious teenager against his chest.

A sudden flash of light flitted across the American's mind. It was vague, cloudy, but he could sense both pleasure and trouble in the foggy mist. It was not reassuring, but he nodded slowly. "Very well. Make sure he knows what not to do. I don't want any accidents occurring while he's with us."

Schuldig gave him a mock salute and gently laid the teen back against the pillows, pulling a blanket over his ghostly pale body. "He needs his rest. He's too drained to do anything now."

"Leave him alone for a few nights or you'll kill him," Brad admonished, pulling his glasses off his face and folding them up, slipping them into his jacket pocket. Vampires did not need glasses to see. But it made him look less threatening when approaching the humans he needed to confer with.

"I know that! I'm not stupid."

Brad smirked slightly. "That remains to be seen." He turned on the heel of his white leather shoe and strode for the door. "Sleep well."

Schuldig watched him go, then smiled softly, his fangs glinting just a bit in the muted light around them. "I will, Bradley. I will." He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the teen's forehead, then moved to his desk to write a note before he checked the time and got to his feet. He smoothed the coverlet over the petit teenager, then moved over to his coffin which was hidden beside the bed close to the wall. He pushed back the sleek, black lid and slid down onto the bed of blood-red satin. He glanced up, just barely seeing the tiny lump that Nagi formed on the bed. He smiled softly to himself and lowered the lid, plunging his world into darkness. Now was time to sleep. All Children of the Shadows needed their rest before they could venture out into the mortal world once more. Tomorrow was another day, just one more in the stretch of immortal eternity.

~*~

Well, there is the first installment of "Darkness in Shadow". I hope you enjoyed it. I will hopefully have more soon. I know there was no real yaoi in this chapter, but there will be some later on. It will only be lime though. I don't have all of this story planned out, so I'm sure we all will be surprised along the way. Please leave me feedback so I know enough people like it to keep writing. Love to all! Thank you for reading!


	2. Better From Here

Wow, here it finally is, the second chapter of Darkness in Shadow. I have done a lot of thinking about this story, but I haven't had hardly any time to work on it. But, now I have, and here's the next chapter. Oh, and just so we all know, Weiss and Farfarello will come into the story, but it won't be for a while. Sorry to all you fans out there. In addition to being like Interview with the Vampire, I discovered it's also a lot like The Vampire Armand too.

Special thanks to everyone who reviewed my fic on ff.net. Kachira (Love you babe!), Tri (I'm glad you liked it), J-chan (Aw, thanks, hun), CW (You're so sweet), Suki (Canines, got it, thankies), LP Teufel (Thank you), Sahel (Glad you liked it), Akurei (I'm also going for Armand and Denis, but yeah, it's kinda a combination of all of it), a (Of course I will!), Mariah (*blush* Good. Stay tuned), Frysa (No rushing the arts, hun. It will just get better, I hope, and it will be finished eventually. But there's a lot of stuff I want to write into it), Crystal Dawn (Yay! Vampire stories are cool!), lyla (Sorry for such a long wait), FallenPheonix721 (Arigatou), and Yami Kitsune (I love vampire stories too). Thanks to you all especially, and to anyone else who read my fic but did not review it. If you leave me a review, I promise to thank you personally each chapter.

~*~

Warnings: yaoi, angst, violence, language, shota, lime, death of non-important characters

Rating: R for language, adult themes, and violence

Pairings: As of right now, SchuxNagi

… centered means change in view but not time

~*~ means time or scene change

'_Italics_' mean thought

~*~

Chapter 2: Better From Here

What time was it? It didn't seem that late, but the lights hadn't changed since last night… He was so warm… There was something heavy on top of him…

Nagi blinked narrowed, midnight eyes and gazed around, trying to remember what had happened last night… He felt so tired and sore…

There was a blanket over him, in a bed that was not his own… He sat up slowly, feeling a bit dizzy. He looked around, trying to place what had happened. A sudden pull in his neck brought it all back. Schuldig… and the other man… Bradley Crawford? He rubbed lightly on both sides of his neck. He could feel the raised bite marks. It seemed like they were healing rather well, and they hardly hurt at all.

Nagi groaned and stretched lazily, glancing around, trying to find Schuldig, but he did not see him. But there was a piece of paper on the bedside table. He picked it up, squinting against the bright light to read it.

Good morning, kitten. I hope you are feeling better. You need to rest and eat. There is food in the refrigerator downstairs. Eat all you want. Do whatever you like until Brad and I get up. But, whatever you do, don't touch our coffins until we are awake, or you could destroy us. Once we're up, I will take you out and get everything you've ever wanted. Make sure you rest. See you at sunset. Schuldig.

Nagi slowly set the note down and looked around, trying to find Schuldig's coffin. He hadn't seen it before, but, as he peered over the other side of the bed, he saw a long, sleek, black casket that was easily hidden by the bed if one surveyed the room from the doorway. He whimpered softly, suppressing a shudder. He could not imagine the German just inside the heavy lid.

His stomach growled loudly. He didn't eat a whole lot normally, but he hadn't eaten in nearly twenty-four hours, and he was feeling incredibly hungry, as well as just a bit anemic. He slowly pushed the blanket back, shivering at the cold. He was still naked, but not aching at all, like he usually was in the mornings after he had finished with his usual dealings every night. That was a good sign. That probably meant no one had slept with him in his lazy drifts of consciousness.

He slowly reached for his clothing, then decided he wanted to take a shower first. The warm water would feel good, and Schuldig had said he could do whatever he wanted. He slipped into Schuldig's bathroom and turned the hot water nearly all the way up. He stepped into the scalding spray, delighting in the way it made his used body feel so much cleaner and newer.

He took a long, hot shower, washing all the filth from his body, then set to washing his baby-fine, dark brown hair. It looked so much better when he was done, so shiny he was sure he could see his own reflection in it, if such a thing had not been physically impossible. He dried off with one of the big, soft, fluffy towels, pulled on his street-smudged clothing, and made his way downstairs.

Nagi found the kitchen, and, true to the note, there was plenty of food there for him, everything from sushi to noodles to things he wasn't even sure what they were (certainly not Japanese) but still tasted very good. He ate and drank heartily til he no longer felt empty and light-headed. Then he napped on the couch, watching whatever came across the big-screen TV. One thing was for sure: the two vampires certainly knew how to live extravagantly.

~*~

Nagi was asleep when Schuldig finally came downstairs just past sunset. He stood on the stairway looking down at the baby teen who was curled up in a ball on the couch, snoozing peacefully. The TV chattered softly across the room, and Schuldig turned it off with a click of the remote as he knelt down by Nagi's head. "Nagi kitten?"

The tiny eyelids fluttered weakly, then opened blearily. Schuldig smiled softly. "Good evening, katzechen."

Nagi blinked again, trying to focus in on the stark, white face that gazed down at him, before smiling back, his eyes clearing. "Konbanwa, Schuldig-sama."

"Are you feeling better?"

"Hai, arigatou." Nagi sat up slowly, brushing his still-damp bangs out of his eyes.

"Good. I want to take you shopping."

"For what?" Nagi asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Probably clothes. You need better stuff than those rags you're wearing."

Nagi clutched lightly at the collar of his shirt. "Oh…"

"So, ready to go?"

Nagi gazed up at him through slightly narrowed eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

"Cause I want to, baby. If you're going to stay with us, you gotta look good."

"Whoa whoa. Who says I'm staying with you?" Nagi demanded angrily.

"No one, but do you really want to leave?"

Nagi was silent.

"Thought so. If you really wanted to leave, you would have already."

Nagi smirked slightly. "I may not stay. Depends on what you have to offer."

"Oh, come on, kitten. Face it. Your life sucked before you came here. Bradley and I can take good care of you for nothing more than your cooperation."

Nagi hesitated again. "As much as I'd like it, you can't do that every night or I'll die."

"Oh, you think that's all I can do?" Schuldig purred. He grinned and reached out to the reclining teen, running a hand lightly but firmly over the front of the boy's pants.

Nagi inhaled sharply, his hips arching upwards towards the touch. He moaned softly, his eyes falling closed.

Schuldig grinned softly, feeling the boy's sex harden instantly under his touch. "You like that, kitten?"

"Mmm-hmm…"

"You want more?"

"H… hai…"

Schuldig smiled at him. "You see, kitten, you serve other purposes… My little nympho…"

Nagi's eyes flew open in shock. He had never told anyone that secret! Ever! The only person other than him who knew was the doctor who had examined him. The fact that this man knew was not only shocking, it was enough to make him irate. That was rare for Nagi, who rarely showed emotion to anyone other than what would get him paid well.

"How dare you!" he spat, sitting up angrily and pushing the hand away from his body. The smirk on the German's face was too much to bear. "How dare you say that to me!"

The man's smirk only got deeper. "Why not, katzechen? It's true, isn't it?"

"How do you know?" Nagi snarled softly, his midnight eyes full of blazing fire. "No one knows about that!"

Schuldig smiled at him in a condescending way. "You have such interesting thoughts, Nagi."

Nagi glared at him. "You bastard.

"Such language, kitten. It's not a big deal."

"You can read my thoughts?"

"Ja. That came when I became a vampire. It's my gift."

Nagi glowered darkly. "My thoughts are none of your business."

"Oh, I'm not going to tell anyone your secrets, kitten. In fact, I think I can help you."

"Help me?" Nagi questioned softly, the fire still in his voice.

"Ja. Your clients… They never satisfy you, do they, baby?"

Nagi glared and looked away. Schuldig shook his head slowly. "Don't make me read your mind to find out."

Nagi made a soft sound in the back of his throat that sounded like a growl. "No."

"See? That wasn't so difficult. Now, kitten, I could help you with your petty desires. You see, vampires don't get tired out. And I certainly would love to fuck with a pretty, little slut like yourself."

Any other person might have been offended, but the nasty words were tender to Nagi's ears. "You… you can do that?"

"Certainly. Now, we can't procreate, but, since it's with you, baby, it doesn't matter."

Nagi smiled ever so slightly. "Guess not."

"So, you want it then?" Schuldig purred softly, reaching out again to stroke lightly at the teen's crotch.

Nagi moaned softly and nodded, his eyes falling closed. "Please…"

"Please what, katzechen?"

"More…"

"Later." Schuldig let go suddenly and stood up. Nagi's eyes flew open, and he gazed up at Schuldig with disappointed, pleading eyes.

"Now… I need you… Once you start, you can't just leave me…"

Schuldig smiled softly and gently rested a hand on Nagi's pale cheek. "I can take it away, kitten. One little thought, and I can make your petty desires go away." Something pressed into his mind, something heavy and tingly, as if there were carbonated bubbles in his brain cells. The next moment, he felt the tightness in his groin, the feeling that plagued him nearly every day for hours on end, suddenly left him, as swiftly as it had come. He inhaled sharply, glancing up at Schuldig with hopeful eyes.

"Can you take it away forever?"

The redhead shook his head slowly. "Not forever, baby. Not with my power. I'm not that strong yet. Maybe as I get older… But enough yakking. We're going shopping now."

~*~

Shopping proved to be an understatement. Schuldig went absolutely wild with spending, buying clothes, electronics, shoes, toys… Anything that Nagi even glanced at twice was instantly his, and Nagi did a lot of glancing. In three hours, Schuldig had bought him more things than he had ever imagined having in his entire life. He noted though as they passed through one store that Schuldig did not pay for everything they bought. Oh, he paid for a good portion of it, all of it with cash he pulled from somewhere on his person. But sometimes the cashier would just slip everything into a bag and hand it to him with a happy smile before quickly hurrying off to attend to something.

"Isn't that stealing?" Nagi questioned the first time it happened.

Schuldig glared at him, as if warning him to keep his voice down. "Yes, it is. But we paid for some of it. Besides, that's what vampires do. We rule over these pitiful humans. They just don't know it. And what's a few measly articles of clothing going to really do in the long run? They're just clothes, and they're just humans."

Nagi fell silent, thinking about this for a while. But, as the night progressed, he became caught up in Schuldig's buying frenzy again. They seemed to attract a lot of attention, a tiny, pale waif and a white-faced, flame-haired gaijin, rushing from store to store. But he didn't care. He was having too much fun.

"Enjoying yourself?" Schuldig asked as they sat down at a table in the quiet food court, Nagi with a bowl of ice cream.

"Very much," Nagi agreed, taking a large bite and letting the ginger flavor fill his mouth and go straight to his head. "I have money, but most of it goes for rent on my place."

"That little shitty one room apartment you call home?" Schuldig asked, leaning back in his seat. There were only a few bags by his feet. Most of it was to be delivered to their house tomorrow.

Nagi sighed and took another bite. "Yeah. Almost ten thousand yen a month. But, if I don't have it all, the landlord usually takes off a bit if I give him a blowjob or something."

"Well, forget him. You're mine now, and if anyone tries to take you away from me…" He left the threat hanging, his green eyes glimmering a bit.

Nagi swallowed his ice cream hard, feeling the cold sting all the way down. "Can… can I ever go home?"

"You don't need to go home. You have nothing there you need. I'm giving you a new home."

Nagi smiled softly. "I know."

"I'm just surprised you managed to find a place to live and still make pretty good money on your own."

"I've had pimps before." Nagi frowned into his ice cream at the memory. "But they would take everything I had and then leave me unable to work for a week when they were done with me. I slept in a room with at least a dozen other kids. It was no life. Now, on my own, I'm free to do what I want."

Schuldig was silent, listening to Nagi talk and watching the way his body moved slowly back and forth as he spoke. "Ja. Now you're my kitten, and you'll service only me. And Bradley, if he ever comes to his senses and decides he's not asexual."

"How old is he anyway?" Nagi asked, licking a droplet of ice cream off the corner of his mouth.

"I'm not really sure. He fought in the American Revolutionary War, he told me. He was wounded and near death when his maker found him and gave him the Dark Gift."

"Dark Gift?" Nagi questioned.

"How you create another vampire. You take their blood and then they drink yours."

"Have you ever done that to anyone?" Nagi asked, wide-eyed, wondering if there were more vampires out there that he might know about.

"I haven't. Bradley says there are more, but I've never seen them at all. I know he sired me, but I'm not sure if I'm the only one."

"Whatever happened to the vampire that sired him? Where did he come from?"

"That I don't know. And don't bother asking him. He won't tell you."

"It doesn't seem like Brad likes me," Nagi said softly.

"He doesn't like anyone. Just polite around him and call him Crawford, not Brad, and he'll warm up to you eventually. And if he ever wants anything from you, give it to him."

"You mean, if he wants to drink from me?" Nagi asked softly, taking in another spoonful of slowly melting ice cream.

"Blood, sex, whatever. I doubt he'll ever want you, but if he does, you do what he says. And he'll start to like you."

"You two seem so different," Nagi said, licking the back of his spoon slowly. "I don't see how you can put up with each other."

Schuldig went quiet a moment, then leaned back in his seat. "That's a story for another time."

Nagi nodded in agreement, swallowing another mouthful. "Can I ask how old you are?"

"Not very old… Still a fledgling in Brad's eyes… He made me back in the 1960's… I was twenty-two… I'd be somewhere in my sixties now, I think…"

Nagi swallowed again, thinking to himself for a bit before a new question started to form in his mind, but he didn't want to ask, as his last couple questions had been rather rude.

"Curious kitten, you can ask me."

Nagi blinked in surprise. He had already forgotten the vampire could hear every thought he had. "Well, I… I was wondering why of all the people in the world, you chose me?"

"Well, that's difficult to explain." Schuldig leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, gazing off into space. "I like you, kid. You have spirit. You can stand up for yourself. You aren't afraid to speak your mind. And you're pretty. That was a big plus in your favor."

"I'm pretty?" Nagi questioned. Almost everyone he talked to said he was 'cute'.

"Yeah. Not just pretty. You're beautiful, kid, whether you realize it or not. You're so delicate and gorgeous… A real knockout."

Nagi blushed and gazed at him through thick, black lashes. "Arigatou."

Schuldig smiled back at him, his fangs glinting just a bit. "Hurry up and finish your ice cream, kitten. I still need to hunt, and I don't want to wait too long."

Nagi hurried to spoon the last few large mouthfuls of ice cream to his mouth. "Do I get to go with?"

"No. I don't think you can keep up, kitten. I'll take you back home, and you can hang out there until I come back."

Nagi pouted slightly. Schuldig smiled and reached out to ruffle his baby-fine hair affectionately. "So cute. Don't worry, katzechen. When I come home, we can have some fun. Promise."

Nagi grinned brightly and took the last bite of ice cream into his mouth. "Okay."

~*~

Schuldig tucked Nagi into his bed, smoothing down the soft bangs. "You just wait here til I get back. Shouldn't be too long."

Nagi nodded sleepily, feeling a bit sluggish from his ice cream. "Okay."

Schuldig kissed his forehead, then turned and vanished down the staircase. Nagi curled into the soft blankets, closing his eyes. He thought he might have fallen asleep, because he awoke when he became aware of someone watching him.

He blinked and turned his eyes towards the doorway. Schuldig's compatriot, Bradley Crawford, stood in the doorway, looking as if he might have been standing there for several minutes already, just watching him. Nagi blinked again and sat up, suddenly wishing Schuldig was there as he gazed into Crawford's coffee-amber eyes. "Hello…"

"What was your name?" the man demanded in a short, clipped burst of Japanese.

Nagi blinked in surprise, pulling the blankets closer to him. "Naoe Nagi."

The man nodded once, then turned and disappeared through the door again, and Nagi could hear his immaculate, white shoes clicking professionally on the stairs. Nagi stared after him. "Strange…"

"Oh, trust me, he's a pain in the ass," came a sudden voice right next to him on the bed. Nagi yelped and yanked away.

Schuldig smiled sweetly at him from where he was seated on the edge of the bed. "Sorry I scared you, baby."

"It's okay." Nagi gave him a sheepish smile, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "I didn't realize you were there."

"I wasn't," Schuldig replied simply before leaning over him, pinning him to the bed with his weight. "Miss me, kitten?"

"Hai." Nagi gazed up at the older man, trying to look at him closely in the dim light. The German's face was no longer stark white, but looked nearly human. Nagi could see the blood inside of him coursing through his pale skin, coloring it a dark flesh tone. It made him seem so much more human, so much more attractive than he already was. Jade green eyes gazed hungrily down at him from eyes that also seemed to course with blood, but yet not take away from the beautiful green that seemed to shimmer in the soft lighting.

"Good." A soft mouth descended on his, and Nagi felt the press of the man's tongue against his teeth. Instinct parted his lips, tongue pressing back. He could taste something in his mouth, something coppery and salty… Blood! He whimpered and pulled away, but the German pulled his face back gently with large, soft hands. "Shh… Relax… It won't hurt you."

The mouth came down again, and Nagi braced himself for the copper taste again, but it did not come. Something else flowed into his mouth… Something endlessly sweet and warm…

'_Drink_', came a soft, soothing voice in his head.

Nagi closed his eyes slowly, relaxing in the German's arms, obediently swallowing. The sudden buzz that followed afterwards made him feel so warm, so on fire… It was like a charge of electricity going through his body, making him moan and writhe softly beneath the vampire.

"Shh, baby, shh. Feels good, ne?"

"Mmm-hmm…"

"More?"

"Hai…"

The mouth came down again, and Nagi again felt the sweetness against his tongue. He swallowed again, then became aware of the German's hands wandering over his tiny body, stroking, caressing, squeezing, driving him crazy with his touches. He moaned loudly and squirmed, wanting more, reaching up to hold him closer. Schuldig smiled softly and undid the buttons of Nagi's shirt faster than Nagi thought would ever be possible without ripping it. The next minute his mouth was everywhere, biting, nipping, sucking, lapping, until Nagi cried out in pleasure, hands stroking through the bright red hair.

Clothing evaporated like water after that, and the night was filled with their soft moans and cries of pleasure. Nagi drifted off to sleep just before dawn, a contented smile on his pale face. Schuldig kissed him gently on the forehead, pulling the blankets over the teen's naked body, then retreated to his own bed, pulling the black lid over him as he nestled down on the blood red satin. "Sleep well, kitten. It will only get better from here."

~*~

There we go, second chapter all finished. Please review. I need reviews to keep me writing. I'm sorry not much action happened in this chapter. Next chapter will be better, promise. More of Crawford, for those of you who like him. Please review! And thank you so much for reading!


	3. Blood Relations

I finally updated this story. I am _so_ sorry for the long wait! I know, I know, I'm the worst updater in the world. Well, I hope this chapter is good enough to make up for the horribly long wait. I will try to get more done this summer. Please leave me reviews! It makes me more motivated to write when I know people like my work.

Thank you very much to: Yami Kitsune1, Megami Riley (yes, I saw both of those movies), Zilent1 (any review is good in my bookJ), FallenPhoenix721, Totchi, Akurei Hikari (yeah, that's always how I've written Nagi, I don't know why), Reliak (love you, babe), Kiarene, Bloodrose 'Valentine' Foxxstar, Fate-sama (if you don't like Crawford, you might not like this chapter; sorry), storie2tell (vampiric blood; no, just a ghoul; and Crawford didn't want Nagi to let any light into their coffins), Knives (thanks), Funeral-Angel, KitsuneNekoTigi, siryu (can't write lemons in here, or my account will be deleted again; sorry, I would if I could; and I don't think there will be any threesomes in this either at this point), and Sorceress of Wind for your reviews! They make me happy! I promise I will personally thank you next chapter if you review this one.

By the way, since this was a question, I will quickly explain about Nagi drinking Schuldig's blood in chapter 2. Basing the idea off of Vampire: the Masquerade, if a human drinks the blood of a vampire, they become a ghoul. A ghoul looks and acts just like a normal person; they are just able to sense that someone else is a vampire more easily, and they are more inclined to follow the bidding of the vampire they drank from. It is also extremely pleasurable because the blood is so potent. Schu did it to pleasure Nagi. It first tasted like blood because Nagi was not used to the sensation, but once the initial surprise wore off, the potency came into effect. I hope this clears up any confusion on that part. These vampires here don't follow any one particular type of vampire; I'm stealing from Anne Rice, White Wolf, and other vampire things as well as making some of it up on my own. If something doesn't make sense as to why it is, please do write me, and I will do my best to give you an answer.

Warnings: yaoi, angst, violence, language, shota, lime, death of non-main characters

Rating: R for language, adult themes, and violence

Pairings: Schuldig x Nagi, Crawford x Schuldig, OC x Crawford

… centered means change in view but not time

means time or scene change

'_Italics_' mean thought

Nights turned into weeks, and the weeks quickly turned into months. Every night was filled with pleasure. Shopping, sex, blood, love. It all melded into one and another until every night was filled with a bliss unequalled by anything else. And Nagi, for the first time in his long fourteen years, was happy.

"You can do whatever you want during the day, but your nights are mine," Schuldig told him, stroking his silk-fine, dark hair. "You're my baby now, and I want to spend time with you." Their nights were filled with the heat of coursing blood, a small, delicate body curled against a larger, firmer one, petal-soft lips on colder, harder ones… All of this mixed together in a sensuality unparalleled.

But even as their own relationship heated up, Nagi's relationship with Crawford seemed to grow colder by the day. Crawford barely spoke five words to him a night. Nagi tried to talk to him, but Crawford always seemed to find something else to do or somewhere else to go to avoid him. Sometimes Nagi couldn't even find him because Crawford had had a vision of him coming and vanished from the house. Finally, unable to find any way to approach the stoic American, Nagi turned to Schuldig to play mediator.

"Good evening, Sunshine," Schuldig told Crawford one night just after sunset as Crawford sat behind his desk in his office. Crawford glanced up in annoyance at the flame-haired man in the doorway who grinned at him wickedly.

"What do you want, Schuldig?"

"Nagi's been getting this feeling you don't like him," Schu said, looking down at his nails. "I don't know where he got that idea…" he added, not bothering to hide the sarcasm that dripped from his lips easy as blood.

"He is your charge. You are responsible for him."

"That doesn't mean you can't be nice to him."

"Go play with your toy, Schuldig. Play with your doll until you break it."

"Break it? What are you talking about?"

Crawford remained silent, amber eyes glaring slightly.

"Tell me!" Schuldig demanded, striding forward and slamming his hands down on the desk sharply, nearly breaking it in half with amazing vampire strength.

"No." Crawford's voice was exceptionally calm.

"Fuck you, Brad! Why do you always have to have a stick up your ass?"

"You're the one who put it there, Schuldig, so I suggest you stop whining about it. Now, you might want to leave, because your little kitten is on his way up."

Schuldig glared at him before turning on his heel and striding for the door.

It took Nagi nearly three months to finally one night find Crawford in his office while Schuldig was gone out hunting.

Crawford was at his desk, typing something on his computer, his glasses tucked into his pocket. Computers really were amazing creations. Back when he was created, he would have never thought of even a telephone, but computers and Internet… It was simply astounding.

"Crawford?" came a soft, tenor voice from the door. Nagi… What did that boy want now?

"Nani?" Crawford questioned, not even bothering to look up from his computer screen.

"I… I want to talk to you."

"About what?" Crawford asked absently.

"Well… About… About me."

"Shouldn't you talk to Schuldig? He's your lover." Crawford was surprised to hear bitterness in his voice.

"He's not here, and he wouldn't know the answer."

"Oh. Well… Come in." He hated playing parent. He was aware Nagi left the safety of the doorway and was at his side. He typed a moment longer, then turned towards the boy. He was met by empty air. What-? Oh. Nagi had knelt down by his chair, his head bowed submissively. What the hell?

"Stand up," Crawford said with an angry sigh.

Nagi complied, getting quickly to his feet, but he would not meet Crawford's face. Crawford sighed and rubbed his eyes in another human gesture. "What is it, Nagi?"

"…Why do you hate me?"

"What?" he asked in surprise.

"Why do you hate me?" Nagi said again, his voice sounding a bit bolder now.

"I don't hate you."

"Yes you do." Nagi's voice was soft.

"No, I don't. Why do you say that?"

"Because… you don't ever talk to me or do anything with me or… or drink from me."

"You're not mine," Crawford reminded him logically. "I have no right to you."

"You took me before," Nagi said back, a bit angrily.

"I saw no reason to keep you. You were nothing more than a common whore then."

The words prickled against his skin, but Nagi pushed them away. Nothing he hadn't heard before. "You took me because I was a common whore?"

"I took you because I could."

"What about now?"

"Now? You are no longer a common whore. You have learned from Schuldig and become worthy of your position here."

Nagi sighed softly and looked away. "Is that all you see me as? Schuldig's lover, formerly a street whore?"

"Yes."

The words stung like saltwater on what was obviously a festering wound, and Nagi found for a moment that he had no words. How could Crawford feel so negative towards him just because Schuldig was the one who had found him and taken him away from his hell of a life? "Crawford, please…"

"This conversation is over." Crawford swung his chair around back to his computer without further comment.

"No!" Nagi snapped before he could stop himself. "You listen to me!"

Crawford seemed to freeze for a moment before he turned back to Nagi with the barest hint of a smile gracing his lips. "Well, well. You have a backbone after all."

Nagi felt his lower lip tremble just a bit at the insult-turned-compliment. "If you don't care for my presence, just tell me, please, and I'll leave you alone. But if this is merely because Schuldig is my lover, I don't see why you hate me."

"It's… complicated," Crawford replied slowly. "I'll tell you some other time."

"Why not now?"

"Because Schuldig is about to come to find you."

"Crawford, please don't hate me."

"I don't hate you."

"And please don't pretend like I don't exist."

"Why not?"

"Because… I want to know that I am part of this family even if I am not a vampire."

"Family?" Crawford almost choked laughing on the word. "Family? You think that is what this is?"

"It's the only family I've ever known," Nagi replied softly but firmly. "I want it to be a family."

"It will not be a family, Nagi. Never."

"Maybe not in the most literal sense, no… But… If you've ever had a family, Crawford, you know how wonderful it is to be around them. To have someone you can love."

Coffee-amber eyes seemed to cloud over in a bizarre mixture of anger and hurt. "Now we _are_ finished."

"What did I say?"

"Get out. Now."

"But-."

"Now!"

Nagi turned and fled from the room, almost running straight into Schuldig. The vampire took the connection without so much as a flinch, catching him up in deceptively strong arms. "Where's the fire, Na-chan?"

Nagi buried his face in Schuldig's jacket. "Crawford is such a bastard."

"Nothing new to me, gorgeous. What happened?"

"I said I wanted us to be a family, and he threw me out."

Schuldig stroked his hair gently. "Shh… I understand, babe. I do. Hey, come on with me, and I'll make you forget all that."

Nagi smiled softly and nodded weakly against his chest. "All right…"

"How does book shopping grab you?"

"Mmm, grabs me like this." Nagi's hand snaked down to squeeze at the vampire's crotch naughtily.

"You little imp," Schuldig scolded, kissing him on the forehead. "All right, a quick screw before we go."

The battle raged on. Everywhere there seemed to be a solid wall of red coats blocking any escape. The tiny group of ragged, American soldiers was huddled together, guns at the ready, bayonets fixed in place. The fear was evident in their eyes, but they would not back down. For freedom and for country, for Glory, God, and Gold, they would endure til death.

_One of the Americans, a raven-haired man, clean-cut and handsome in a rugged way, gripped his gun tightly, his coffee-amber eyes glittering like cold bits of metal. His feet were swathed in rags that were stained red from blood. The winter had been cold, and his feet had frozen so they had bled as he marched in the fallen snow, every step like a red-hot poker against the worn skin. His shirt, now ragged from the long, hard months of battling, was a faded gray. His wife had made it. Isabelle. How she had cried as he had left her to fight. His five year old daughter, Nan, had refused to be comforted as he kissed them both good bye, promising to return to them one day. Now the coat so lovingly stitched together was his only reminder of them. He loved them. He did._

_The soldier breathed heavily as he surveyed the red coats surrounding him. He glanced towards his captain. He was prepared to die. For freedom, he would die. His wife would forgive him. Besides, twenty-seven was not such a bad age. He shouldered his rifle, sighting along it. He waited for the order from his commander. In his head, he started to pray. 'Our father, who art in Heaven…'_

_"Fire!" came the shout from his captain, and he squeezed the trigger, the roar of dozens of guns echoing in his ears. His own bullet caught one of the British soldiers in the chest, and the man fell to the ground with a strangled cry._

_The bark of bullets was deafening as he knelt to reload his own gun. One-shot rifles were slow and tedious, but he would not let that stop him. He quickly reloaded, bracing his rifle against his thigh. Next to him, a man went down, one arm blown almost completely off. His blood splashed onto his own gray coat, staining it a dull shade of crimson._

_The soldiers around him were dropping like flies. He fired again and reloaded, repeating the process as bullets whistled centimeters past his ears. One thing for rifles, they didn't always shoot straight, and that could be a lifesaver at the moment._

_A thick, choking smoke covered the battlefield, obscuring everything from vision sans the man on either side of him and a brief flash of scarlet every now and then from the Red Coats. He fired blindly into the smog, only the shouts from the opposing side and the thunder of guns giving him indication where the enemy might be._

**_Crack! _**_He heard a single shot clearly through the din, and, the next moment, there was a stinging pain in his left side, followed instantly by a gush of hot, sticky blood. He cried out, dropping his gun and pressing both hands to the wound frantically as pain assaulted his whole body, shockwaves of fiery stings lancing through every nerve. He dropped weakly to his knees as his vision swam before his eyes, like ripples expanding in a pond. The man next to him reached out to help him, but the next instant, he was on the ground as well, a bullet lodged in his head._

_Well, presumably the Brits couldn't see them any better than he could see them, so they were firing blindly into the smoke. If he could just keep low, he could get out of the way of the fighting. He was in no condition to fight now… He laid flat on his stomach and inched away from the explosion of British guns. Every movement sent a bolt of pain through him, and his unsteady vision blacked in and out as he struggled along, one hand helping himself along, the other pressed to his side to try to stop the bleeding. His hot blood ran over his hand, staining the creamy skin bright red. He gritted his teeth to suppress a cry of pain and pulled himself on. They were near a forest… If he could get to it, he could find a clearing to lie down in…_

_He struggled along, his arm collapsing under him every few inches. His hot blood made a long, red trail on the hard-packed snow underneath him, and the iciness there bit into his hands. The wind picked up bits of snow and flung them into his face, blinding him with a crispy sting. He crawled on before he could feel sticks and dry, stiff leaves under his hands. He must have reached the forest… He crawled faster, but his ears were ringing, and his vision was multi-colored streaks of light now as pain zinged along every part of his body in white-hot flames. His hand touched a tree in front of him, and he shifted painfully to lie against it. He closed his eyes weakly, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. The pain was slowly dulling into an icy ache. He moaned softly. Isabelle… Nan… He was dying, and he'd never see them again…_

_"I'm glad you were able to escape," came a soft voice nearby. He groaned and opened his eyes. Who the devil was in this area? Friend or foe? His vision swam as he rotated his neck painfully. Someone was next to him. Someone dressed in fine, black clothing. Through bleary eyes, he made out a shock of shoulder-length bright auburn hair, hanging free like a long, flowing mane. The face was creamy, like fresh milk, though through his hazed eyes, it was impossible to make out any distinct facial features. "They all killed each other, the unlucky bastards."_

_The voice was clearly male, soft and charming, but full of power. He had a slight British accent, as if his parents had been aristocrats. "Who… Who are you?" the dying man rasped, licking his dry lips with an equally dry tongue._

_"I could tell you, but I am more interested in you, Roger Locke."_

_"How do you know my name?" the man gasped out, then began to cough painfully, dryly._

_"I know all about you, Roger. I know about your wife and your daughter. There's nothing about you I don't know."_

_"Why bother me?" Roger demanded, his throat contracting painfully as he almost choked on his own blood. "Let me die in peace."_

_The man suddenly shifted so that it was nearly leaning over the bloody soldier. "But you don't have to die, Roger. I could save you."_

_"Are you a doctor?"_

_"No, something better. I could save you and give you everything you've ever wanted, forever, if only you agree to my conditions."_

_Pain surged through the raven-haired man's side, and he almost threw up. "Wh… What would they be?" Roger coughed again, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth._

_"Remain with me, as my companion, forever."_

_"That's it?"_

_"Aye. Your life for mine. Do you accept?"_

_After a moment, a long moment, that Roger could feel the icy, numbing hands of Death creep its way up his body, he assented. "Aye," he croaked, his eyes closing weakly._

_The next moment there was a sudden pain in his neck, hardly noticeable through the horrifying pain the lead bullet was inflicting upon his muscled body. He moaned softly, his hands reaching up with all the strength left in him to twine bloody fingers in the silky, auburn hair that fell freely over his hot face. The owner of the lustrous hair held him tightly, and Roger felt soothing pleasure wash over him, as if he was falling backwards through darkness deeper than anything he had ever felt before. Was he going to Hell?_

_'Not Hell, Roger. Not Hell. There is no Hell,' came a voice in his mind that sounded just like the voice that had been speaking to him earlier. 'Trust in me. Hold on to me, and I shall give you the world.' The voice faded, and then Roger felt soft flesh touch his mouth. Something gallingly sweet yet deliciously bitter flowed into his mouth. 'Drink. Drink, and live.'_

_Obediently, he let the flavor enter his mouth. It parched his raging thirst, and he forced himself to swallow, the tender warmth soothing his ragged throat. The liquid kept coming, and he swallowed again, drinking deeper and deeper, clinging close to the soft skin that he was able to determine was a wrist. He could feel one soft hand stroking and caressing his matted hair, and it felt so good._

_At first he didn't notice the tingling in his side, but as the wrist pulled away from his mouth, he felt something strange going through his body to his injured side. The torn muscles, ligaments, and skin was repairing itself, pulling itself together as if guided by invisible hands, leaving nothing on the flesh, not even a scar, just a gaping, bloodstained hole in his jacket and shirt. He didn't have much time to marvel over this though before something hit his insides like an avalanche, and he found himself flung against the ground, spasming and jerking, crying out in pain, thrashing as every muscle in his body rippled, then suddenly froze, making his body go into a strange sort of torpor. He tried to move, but everything hurt so much, and he felt as if he was buried under a ton of ice. All he could do was stare up at the starry, night sky through the branches of overhanging trees. _

_'Just relax, my child,' came the voice in his mind again. 'Your body is dying, but soon it will be over, and you'll be reborn as one of us.' The voice was soothing and gentle, and Roger's mind relaxed with it, though his body suddenly jerked and spasmed again. He couldn't hold back a loud cry that suddenly died on his lips as the world swam for a moment. The next moment, he blinked, and the world cleared. The stars glowed above his head, seemingly brighter tonight than they had ever been. And the leaves of the trees seemed so much more distinct, more detailed and sharp. He had never noticed before…_

_A pale hand reached down and grasped his own, pulling him up into a sitting position. He could actually see the blood inside the pale skin coursing through the veins there. He stared at it in fascination before becoming aware that a pair of forest eyes was gazing back into his own. He focused on them instead, watching the tiny veins running through them surge with crimson blood. "Roger?"_

_"Yes…" His voice sounded strange to his own ears. Clearer, sharper. He had to repeat the word again just to confirm that it was his own voice._

_The face before him finally was clear to his eyes, and he could see a pale face, a long nose, slender cheeks, eyes the color of the surrounding pine trees, and hair the color of the blood on his clothing. He felt his fingers trembling as he reached up to brush them over the man's cheek slowly. The skin there against his own fingertips made him dizzy, and he suddenly became painfully aware of a hollowness in his stomach that burned like fire within him, and he doubled over, his arms going around himself. Strong arms went around him, holding him, and he could smell the same bittersweetness he had swallowed earlier from the thin, red lines he could see under the skin of the man's hand. He reached for the hand, lifting it to his mouth, instinct kicking in even as his mind had no idea what it was doing. His mouth opened before his teeth connected with each other with a sharp chink. The hand was no longer in his hold._

_"No, young one, you've had enough of mine. Come with me." The man holding him stood up, and Roger found himself pulled up easily. The ground beneath him felt softer than it had before, almost like he could sink deep down into the bowels of the earth if he wanted to. But he didn't want to even attempt trying as his stomach sent pain through his body that made him cry out softly and cling to the silky material of the man's jacket._

_"You need to learn to feed," the man replied, taking him by the hand and pulling him along. The leaves on the ground crunched under their feet like a whisper as they left the forest and reached the clearing where the battle had taken place not long ago._

_The place reeked of death and decay, though the bodies scattered around were less than an hour dead, and the blood-soaked ground seemed to pulse with the very life of the men who had died. Roger felt a strange pull that felt like nausea, but he didn't feel bile rising inside of him like he usually did._

_Something reached his nose through the stench, something fresh and alive. Something that smelled delicious and made the pain inside him grow to almost ravenous proportions. A hand took his, guiding him over to a man dressed in a British uniform. He was unconscious, probably from the pain of a bullet wound to his shoulder. He hadn't lost much blood, but his arm would have to be amputated if he were to live. The Brits must have left their wounded behind, in a hurry to catch up to the next American militia ahead after the massacre of the rebels._

_Roger found himself kneeling by the man's prone body, watching his chest expand and contract as he breathed, which suddenly made him aware that he was not breathing. He found amazement in that thought for only a moment before a hunger pain unlike any he had felt yet lurched through him, making him spasm slightly. Behind him, his sire knelt, his fingers gently guiding his head down to the man's neck. "Parch your thirst, young one."_

_Instinct won over confusion, and Roger opened his mouth, feeling a pain against his lips. His newly grown fangs had pierced into his lower lip, and he could taste his own blood there. He licked it up eagerly, the feeling making him dizzy all over again. The man beneath him moaned softly, and Roger turned the soldier's head to the side, hesitating only a moment before clumsily sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of the man's neck. The rewarding splash of blood startled him, almost making him pull back, but the overwhelming hunger inside of him forced him to continue, swallowing the thick mouthful and eagerly taking in more. He almost scraped his tongue against his own razor teeth as he dug them deeper into the neck. Eating was awkward, and he spilled much blood down his chin onto his jacket, but he didn't care, greedily drinking away the blood that poured into his mouth, sweeter than anything he had ever tasted but also deliciously bitter. He drank and drank until he thought he might drown in the flavor, hearing the echo of the man's heart in his ears like an army on horseback all around him. Someone grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back. His fangs tore through the man's flesh like a knife through butter, and he let out a growl of frustration as the sweetness went away._

_"No more, young one. Dead blood isn't good for you. It doesn't nourish you, and it doesn't taste very good either. Come, we will find you new prey." The words of his new master tickled in his ear like a kiss, and he stood up, licking blood from his chin before wiping it away with his sleeve._

_"Did I… kill him?"_

_"Aye," the man replied, soft hands on Roger's shoulders. "Human lives are so frail. We must be so careful with them. But you will learn that later. Come. We shall seek out more blood for your hunger."_

_His maker's name was Aeden Ferris, and Roger learned this as they walked along together, and, before only a few minutes had passed, they had covered nearly twenty miles. They found a deserter from the American army, and Aeden fell upon him and drank first, then offered him to Roger, and Roger drank until he was no longer thirsty. As the night drew to a close, Aeden took Roger to an abandoned cabin in the midst of the woods, leading him down into the dark cellar. A hole had been dug in the soft earth there, and Roger and Aeden slept, covered by the heavy dirt around them._

_When the sun set again the next evening, Roger awoke with a burning thirst in his body that begged him to rise and seek out the blood that he knew was nearby. Aeden took him out, 'hunting', as he called it, and then they spent the night talking in blissful companionship._

_Weeks passed in this way, and Roger found himself content to live with Aeden, spending their nights in companionship, their days in each other's arms under the cool earth. Almost two months had passed before Roger gave a thought to his former life as he sat in a tree staring at the stars. Nan and Isabelle. He hadn't seen them for so long. Would they have moved on without him? Or would they still be waiting, hoping for his safe return? He asked Aeden if he could return to them to speak with them. Aeden assented, so, as the sun sank the next night, Roger left their cellar, found prey for the evening, and then hurried back along the path he had taken not so very long ago towards his home. With his new vampire speed, it took him only a few hours to cover the several hundred miles._

_There was a candle burning in the window, the faint glimmer barely casting any light over the ground, but his vampire eyes had no trouble discerning it over the long distance between him and the familiar log cabin. Home. He was almost home. He approached it slowly, almost reverently as a cold wind whipped over his cheeks. What was cold to an undead? It had been so long since he had been home. He had been at war for so long._

_He raised one hand, resting it against the familiar wood plane of the door. Home. His home that he had lived in for years with his wife and child. And now they were there, waiting for him. They had lit the candle in the window for him, so he could find them again. For one moment, Roger felt something he hadn't felt since he had become a child of darkness. He felt remorse. He had put them through so much, and now he couldn't even spend life with them, because he couldn't be around them during the day. His will to live had been the only thing keeping him alive to see his family, but it was now the thing that would prevent him from being with them. His heart feeling like deadweight in his chest, Roger pushed the door open and stepped inside._

_Isabelle was sitting in her rocking chair, bent over her sewing by the weak glow of another candle. Even though the light cast shadow over her face, Roger had no trouble seeing her through the darkness. The year he had been gone had aged her face and her body, and his vampiric vision only made every tiny detail of it more apparent to him. There were wrinkles under her eyes. Her cheeks were gaunt and sunken, defining her cheekbones against the sallow skin stretched across them. Her hair fell stringy and limp against the side of her face. Lines stretched out across her forehead, and shadows played against her jaw and down the too-slender extent of her throat. Her dress hung loosely on her frame. It was patched and mended in many places, a ratty, wool shawl wrapped around her shoulders for warmth. For one long, terrible moment, as he stared at the woman he had once loved, Roger felt something inside of him freeze into solid ice. He couldn't remember what love felt like. He didn't remember what holding her had done to him. He didn't remember the warmth of her body or the glow of her skin or the twinkle in her gray eyes. He didn't remember what it felt like to pull her up against him in their bed, to entwine his fingers with hers as he made love to her, to smell her hair and kiss her lips and feel her body pressed against his. All he could see in front of him was a woman who had aged twenty years in one, all because of him, and there was nothing he could do but watch time take its toll on her until she withered away into dry bones._

_Slowly, as if sensing the presence of someone else nearby, she lifted her head, turning ever so slightly, her breath stilling as her eyes met Roger's own in the doorway. For one moment, Roger felt like the floor had vanished from under his feet. What if she saw him for what he was? What if she saw through his disguise, saw the monster he had become? Would she reject him?_

_Their eyes met for a long moment, one that seemed to stretch on for an eternity, even to him, but, as soon as that ended, he found her against his chest, her stick-like arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her face buried in his throat. Hot, wet tears brushed his skin, sliding down to soak into the collar of his shirt as his own arms moved by their own free will to wrap around her and hold her fragile body against his own. He could smell her blood. He could feel the rush of warmth through her veins and the pounding of her heart as she cried, sobbing for breath. His chest felt hollow inside, as did his stomach, his fangs aching as they sensed live, human flesh so close, perfect for the taking._

_'But,' his conscience reminded him quickly. 'This is your wife! You love her! She is not like those other people!'_

_'But she is human, like any other human, and you are not,' the darker side of his conscience responded to that._

_"Roger, my darling…" Her voice was soft and strained through her tears, and Roger felt his own throat close up a bit with tears. He felt it run, hot and wet, down his face to rest in her hair, but, when he looked down at where it had fallen, he recoiled sharply. What had fallen was not a tear, but a drop of blood. He quickly swiped at his eyes with one hand, trying to cover his face from her in the process. Blood streaked across the pale white of his hand where he had wiped his cheek._

_"Roger?" Isabelle's voice was worried._

_"I am well," he replied quickly, stroking her cheek with his other hand as he wiped the crimson stain off on his trousers. "Where is Nan?"_

_"Sleeping. We shall wake her. She will want to see you." Isabelle took his hand in her own and led him through the hall to Nan's tiny room. Her sleeping form was curled under a warm quilt, a candle burning lazily nearby, casting flickering shadows over her plump cheeks. Isabelle reached out to shake her gently. "Nan. Nan, my sweet. Your father is home."_

_Her hazel eyes fluttered open, staring blankly up at the two by the bed for a moment before she sat up, holding out her arms to Roger. Roger scooped her up, holding her close against his chest, stroking her hair as he had with Isabelle. Nan had grown while he had been away, but her baby fat still remained. She was as plump as a partridge, and her flesh felt warm and soft to him. Though he cared nothing for the feel of her skin, his mouth watered for the juice that lay beneath the peel, and he closed his eyes frantically to try to block the desire that gnawed at his stomach. He wasn't hungry. He had fed. Nan was his child! His own flesh and blood!_

_She sighed, and her breath was warm against his neck, ruffling the midnight hair there. Her eyes were closed so peacefully as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders tightly. She was so innocent. So perfect. She was not corrupted by the horrors of this world yet, by the horror he had become. He wanted to keep it that way, but the ache in his abdomen and his fangs was become a persistent itch that could not be scratched. The blood in her body sang in her veins, and he could hear her heartbeat, feel it against his own still one. He inhaled without realizing it, tipping his head a bit to press a kiss to her throat. Almost against his will, his mouth opened, and his teeth sank into the soft flesh there._

_He wanted to yank away as he felt them pierce her skin, but the instant the scarlet blood splashed against his tongue, all thoughts of anything else vanished, and he pulled her closer, drawing more blood into his mouth._

_She gasped softly as his teeth sank into her flesh, her fingers tightening against his hair before she relaxed as his pleasurable Kiss flowed through her tiny body. Roger could smell her hair against his nose as drank from her, his back to his wife as he drained his own daughter of her life blood, feeling his mind whirl in sensations and the pulse of her heart in his ears._

_"Roger." Isabelle's voice told him she wanted his attention as well. But Nan… He couldn't stop now. Not when he was so close to draining the last dregs of her sweetness. "Roger," Isabelle tried again a moment later. When Roger didn't respond, she grabbed his arm to turn him gently around. Her eyes went wide, and she gasped loudly, backing up a few steps._

_Nan's heart was barely fluttering now. Roger released her and set her on her bed. He stared down at her for a moment, his body tingling with the fresh blood running through his system, before a scream pierced his euphoria, and he turned to see Isabelle staring at him. Her mouth hung open, her storm cloud eyes so wide he could see white all around the irises. "Isabelle-."_

_"She's dead! She's dead!" The scream was almost ear-shattering, and, though there was no fear of anyone hearing them, Roger felt an intense need to silence her. The words stung his heart over and over. Nan was dead, and he had been the one to kill her. He raced forward, moving faster than he would have under any human circumstances, grasping Isabelle's wrists tightly._

_"Stop screaming!"_

_"What are you! You are not my husband! What have you done to my daughter!"_

_Her words echoed in his ears even as his nose was assaulted by the surge of blood from her angry heart, and he pulled her close. The crush of her breasts against his body and the tickle of her hair against his face only made it stronger, and he couldn't stop himself. His teeth tore into her throat, and her hot, irate blood flooded his mouth. Her struggles ceased as she gave in to the pleasure of his fangs, her fingers clenching in his lapels, her eyes closing. She sank against him, and, a moment later, they were sprawled across Nan's bed, himself on top of her, drinking greedily from her slender, white throat. Her body writhing weakly beneath him made him dizzy with pleasure until she finally went limp against the mattress and her heart ceased its frantic ticking._

_Roger finally pulled away from Isabelle's body, gazing down at her for a moment. Aside from the puncture marks on her throat, she looked peaceful, as if she were sleeping. Her face had gone white from loss of blood. She and Nan rested side by side, and Roger could only stare for a few moments before it suddenly occurred to him what he had done. His wife and only daughter, his beloved family… He had killed them both in his bloodlust._

_A sudden sound cut through the silence of the room, and it was several seconds before Roger realized it was the sound of his own screaming. It carried on, louder than any natural scream, echoing through the house and out into the woods surrounding them. It hurt so much, even more than when his body had died only a few months ago. At least then his soul had stayed within him. Now it felt like it was being wrenched from his body with a white-hot poker as he stared down at the bodies of his dear family. He had come back to them only to cause their death._

_His screaming continued for what felt like forever before he suddenly felt strong arms around him, holding him close, stroking his hair. It was Aeden. Roger curled into his arms, sobbing frantically, bloody tears rolling down his face to stain the front of Aeden's shirt. Aeden didn't seem to mind, just holding him, stroking his hair, rocking him back and forth gently until just before dawn when they barricaded themselves in the cellar to avoid the fiery dawn. As Roger curled up on the damp, earth floor, clinging tightly to Aeden, he wondered if that was what all eternity would be like. Would lives come and go as easily as that? Would he harm those he loved? Would he ever truly be able to love, knowing that those lives would eventually be snuffed out? It hurt so much, and all he had now to cling to was Aeden, in hopes that Aeden would not abandon him and leave him alone in this momentary world._

_Aeden never left him. After that night, Roger changed his name in an attempt to forget his past. He had all of his future to pursue, and though he regretted his actions, Aeden insisted to him that life would indeed go on. Humans were so fragile, so weak, and they would eventually die, by old age if not by their hands. And so, Roger Locke became Bradley Crawford, and together, he and Aeden Ferris traveled across the sea to Europe for almost a century before the American Civil War broke out, and they moved back to America to feast on the soldiers, runaway slaves, and southern aristocrats alike. They lived in the south for a while after that, occasionally traveling back overseas to England, as well as India, as Aeden seemed to have developed a liking for that particular country._

_About the end of the 19th century, though he was happy and content to live with Aeden, Brad began to feel the need for freedom, so he and Aeden parted ways to pursue their own adventures. He thought to himself that perhaps he might find other vampires. Aeden had said there were some, but he had yet to meet one._

_America was an exciting place for a vampire to live after the first world war had completed, and Brad contented himself with living there for many years, occasionally going back to England, and later to India, to visit with his sire. He did not meet any other vampires in America as he traveled around the country, to states he had not visited further north and west, but he found many places to visit and things to do._

_But it wasn't until after World War II that Crawford finally found himself riveted to one place, and it was for a very specific reason. A German foreign exchange student with flame-orange hair, a love for anything with long legs, and an addiction to the psychedelic. Schuldig._

_He had met Schuldig at some kind of party; he couldn't even remember clearly, though it had only been about forty years ago. They had talked, they had danced. Later that night, when Crawford had taken Schuldig back to his residence, they made love. But when he had sank his teeth into the German student's soft throat, intent on killing him, instead of giving in to the pleasure, Schuldig had let him drink for a long moment before pushing him away, demanding some of Crawford's own blood in return. Amused by the fact that the redhead was so adamant about it, he had consented, and he had shared a few mouthfuls of his own potent, euphoric blood with Schuldig._

_They became lovers after that for several months, sharing blood and sex at night. During the day, Schuldig would go to classes, swallow or smoke any number of drugs, drink himself into a stupor, and somehow end up dancing in some stranger's arms until Crawford managed to track him down after sunset. How Schuldig ever passed any class at all, Crawford would never know. In the short time he had known him, he had grown attached to the bratty young man for reasons even he did not understand, and when Schuldig had said that he might be returning to Germany, Crawford had done something he had never considered doing to anyone before. He offered Schuldig the Dark Gift._

_Schuldig had accepted way too quickly. Crawford had a feeling the man really didn't understand the seriousness of what he was choosing. Or perhaps he was too enthralled in the world of sharing blood and the blissful ecstasy that followed to realize what Crawford was offering. But, nonetheless, Crawford had changed him into a vampire as well, and they lived together for several more months in America, as Crawford and Aeden had used to do, before Schuldig expressed a desire to go see the world, and they had set off on a tour. Somewhere along the line, they found themselves in Japan, and they had been there ever since. But, even from the first few months of living together as childe and sire, Crawford felt like their relationship had changed. How, he could not exactly say, but, as the years went by, they grew further and further apart until all they ever did was fight. They would bicker and argue and snap at each other until they would have to separate to keep from coming to blows sometimes, and they were never intimate with each other again, physically or emotionally. Regardless, they still stayed together in Japan (for financial reasons, Crawford suspected), and that was how it had been, until now._

Crawford rubbed at his forehead. Why had talking with Nagi inspired these thoughts so suddenly? He hadn't thought about Isabelle and Nan in years. The thoughts burned in his mind like a wildfire. And the thought of Schuldig made him strangely numb. That memory was with him every time he laid eyes on the flame-haired fledgling. Many times he had considered wiping out the bratty German and finding someone new to take his place, but that had yet to happen. He tried to bring to mind what it was that had first drawn him to the rambunctious young man that had made him want to spend eternity with him, but he could not recall what that thing was. Whatever had been there was most likely gone now, they had moved so far apart. And now Schuldig was lost forever to that boy. Or at least, til Nagi grew old and died. A single bubble in the forever-flowing river of eternity, one that would soon pop as quickly as it had come into being, and be forgotten.

Forgotten. Some things could never be forgotten. In almost three hundred years he had yet to forget his family, where he came from, and who he had once been. But the blood magic had worked in him, and he could no longer be that person, no matter how much he yearned for it with the little soul he had left. He was a vampire now, a violent, beautiful creature that depended upon its former species for nourishment. And he would remain that creature, that blight on society, for all eternity or until he slipped into madness and let Final Death take him to whatever hell awaited those like him.

With a defeated sigh, Crawford pushed himself up from his desk. He was hungry. Well, more precisely, he wanted to get out of the house, and hunting gave him that excuse. He headed down the stairs, ignoring the muffled screams and groans that were coming from Schuldig's room where he was sure the redhead vampire was screwing Nagi stupid and probably would be for the rest of the night at that rate. He closed the front door with an agitated click, striding for his precious, black Mercedes, slipping into it and gunning the engine. It was silly, really, vampires liking cars when they easily could match them for speed, but what was the point of having money if he didn't show it off? Or so he figured as he pulled out of the driveway and headed down the street, trying to put the memories of tonight out of his head, though he knew he had the rest of eternity to reflect on them.

…

"Something wrong, baby?" Schuldig asked, running a lazy hand up Nagi's naked side.

Nagi sighed and rolled over to face him. "No."

"I know you're lying, gorgeous."

Nagi sighed again and rubbed at his eyes. "I just… I want Crawford to like me. So badly."

"He does, baby. He does."

"But why does he yell at me? Why does he say I'm just a whore?"

"That's just the way he is, kiddo." Schuldig pulled the sweaty boy into his arms, stroking his hair gently. "He calls me a whore all the time. 'Cept, it's true, so I guess I shouldn't bitch about it, right?"

Nagi couldn't hold back a soft chuckle. "I don't think you are."

Schuldig shrugged. "Brad's got something up his ass. Whatever it is, I envy it."

"Do you love him?" Nagi questioned softly as he curled his fingers into Schuldig's coppery mane, liking the warm reassurance it brought him.

Schuldig was silent for a minute before he slowly replied, "I think at one point I did. I'm not so sure anymore. I want him, that's for sure, but I doubt that's your definition of love." He glanced down at him, affection in his eyes. "But I love you. I really mean that."

Nagi blinked at that, lifting his eyes to meet Schuldig's own. "You love me?"

"Of course I do. You don't believe me?"

"Everyone tells me they love me," Nagi replied, lowering his eyes to the ends of Schuldig's hair. "They love me, they love my ass, they love my blowjobs, they love the way I look under them."

"Well, I love all those things too, baby. But that's not what I love the most. I love you. As a human. As a person. As my pretty little kitten that shares everything with me."

"Eternity must be a long time if you have to live it without love."

"…Yeah, it is," Schuldig said with a long-suffering sigh. Then he abruptly brightened, ruffling Nagi's hair. "Damn you and your post-coital philosophy."


End file.
